A Broken Encounter
by riddle101
Summary: One year ago, Balisk Acton fled England and his horrible secret. But he should know better than to think all of his problems were behind him. Rated M for later chapters. Sequel to "A Strange Encounter".
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome back, kids! If the timeline is a little confusing, the last chapter was right before the third book would've started, so this is one year later, a little bit before the four book would start. Got it, children? Good.**

**Voting is still in. For some reason, Harry/Balisk is like **_**uber**_** popular, even though they've hardly even spoken to each other. If it wasn't for the name of the genre I have to put it in, I might just forget Harry was in it! Keep in mind kids that I get a vote too (though it counts no more than yours) and so do my beta and my friends, because they're technically readers too. Though they sometimes vote for dumb shit. Anyway, enjoy kids!**

**A Broken Encounter**

_Balisk turned over in his sleep and felt a pair of secure arms wrap around him. He looked up at a gently smiling face and mimicked the action._

"_Hey there," The arms tightened slightly around him._

"_Hi," He giggled back, letting his head drop to the firm chest below. Balisk sighed happily._

"_Babe?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_It's seven a.m."_

_Balisk's eyebrows furrowed and he looked out the window. The moon was high and the sky was pitch black._

"_Um, no it isn't."_

"_Seriously, it's time to wake up."_

"_What?"_

"**Balisk**!" The blanket was jerked out from under him and Simone stood over his bed, panting slightly from having tried to get the boy to wake up for more than ten minutes. "**Sorry, honey. But it's time to wake up.**"

"**Oh, sorry**…" Balisk stuttered over his words, not yet used to the foreign way Bulgarian's spoke.

"**Well, breakfast is ready. Anthony and Viktor are already downstairs.**"

Balisk nodded and got out of bed, hurrying to put on his clothes. He walked down the steps to the small kitchen and saw Anthony sitting at the table, having a one-sided sword-fork fight with his nephew while a broader, brunette man (who had been introduced as "Viktor" a year prior) sat beside him and commented on how bad Anthony was getting his ass kicked by a toddler.

"**How about you shut your damn mouth?**" Anthony growled, stepping on Viktor's foot under the table.

"**No cussing in front of the baby,**" Simone scolded before returning to cooing at the baby.

Balisk snickered into his hand before he took his seat in front of Anthony. He brushed back his hair—despite having grown used to the shorter length, he wasn't pleased with having to dye his hair black for safety precautions. And abandoning his regular eye treatments in favor for glasses hadn't been his choice, either, but being a run-away wasn't easy living.

"**Hello, bitches!**" A loud voice came from the kitchen door and a short, blonde boy came in, followed by a much taller blonde who had to duck so his chin didn't hit the door frame.

"**Criss,**" Anthony pointed his fork at his nephew. "**The baby's here.**"

"**Damn, still? You'd think Isha would take care of her own damn kid.**"

"**Well, you thought wrong, my dear,**" Simone kissed both the new guest's foreheads before setting two more places at the tables and placing food at them. "**Eat up, dears. We've got a Port Key to catch.**"

"**Port Key?**" Balisk asked, raising an eyebrow.

"**Yeah, dumbass here has got to go to England for the Quidditch World Cup. We're tagging along. That includes **_**you**_**.**" Anthony said.

"**Um, **_**why**_** does that include me?**"

"**You're part of the family, dear.**" Simone said wistfully, kissing Balisk's cheek before picking up the baby and checking her watch. "**It leaves in an hour. Nicholai, darling, did you remind your mother to come by here and feed Cashmere while we're gone?**" The tall boy nodded mutely.

Cashmere swam in a circle around his fish bowl, as if he knew that they were talking about him. Anthony stood and cooed at the fish.

"**Don't flop out of your bowl while we're gone.**"

"**Don't get all gay over a fish, Anthony.**" Criss rolled his eyes, pulling at the taller man's arm.

Balisk smirked at the older boys as they exited the kitchen and walked out into the yard, pushing each other and calling each other ill names.

He'd never missed home so much.

*break*

"Okay, our seats are…right here." Anthony muttered in English, navigating around the large stadium.

"Wicked!" Balisk whispered, looking over the railing. Simone had her hands over her eyes.

"Don't do that! God knows vhat vould happen if you fell…"

"He'll be fine, Simone." Anthony rolled his eyes at his mother before hugging her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. "If you're so scared of heights, I could haff asked the coach for lower seats."

"No, no, it's fine. I'll just…Not look over the edge."

"How vill you vatch the game?"

"I'll use these Omnioculars."

"All right then."

"I told you these seats would be worth waiting for!" A voice shouted happily. "Oh, hello, Simone."

"Hello, Arthur."

Balisk tensed and Anthony put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"So, this is your son?" Arthur asked, shaking Anthony's hand firmly. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

"And who is this?" Arthur asked, looking at Balisk.

"This is my younger cousin, Vincent." Anthony supplied quickly, smiling at Arthur.

"It's very nice to meet you, Vincent."

Balisk smiled dumbly and shook the older man's hand.

"Er, does he speak English?"

"No," Anthony said.

Balisk kept smiling.

"Anthony!" Criss yelled, waving from the end of the row. He walked over, tugging his Nicholai with him.

"Who is this?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, this is my friend, Criss and his tvin brother, Nicholai." Anthony explained. He received a few strange looks at the word "twin", as Nicholai was well over six-and-a-half feet and Criss barely broke five-foot.

"Fraternal twins?" Arthur asked.

"Identical," Criss said wearily. "No one ever believes me, though."

"Ah, I see…Oh look, the game's starting!" Arthur said, as if wanting to get off the topic.

*break*

The game had gone relatively well and Anthony had disappeared as soon as it ended, saying he was going to go find Viktor.

"**How was the game, love?**" Simone asked, stroking Balisk's hair lovingly.

"**Fine. Just sad that Bulgaria lost.**"

"**Ah, well, we can't win them all. Oh, watch out!**" Simone said as Balisk bumped into someone and fell to the ground.

"Sorry." Harry's eyes were wide as he looked down at the person he'd knocked down. The taller woman beside him helped the boy up and spoke softly to him in what Harry assumed was Bulgarian.

"I-It's all right…" The boy's accent went through his words, but seemed strangely forced. He refused to look Harry in the eyes.

"Um, okay. You're glasses are broken, I think."

"He doesn't understand English, dear. I'll fix them." The woman waved him off and wrapped an arm around the boy.

Harry's eyebrows came together, but he left it alone.

"**Are you okay, honey?**" Simone asked when Harry had left.

"**Yeah…God, that's the first time I've seen him in, like, a **_**year**_**. I was scared that he'd recognize me.**"

"**So was I. Let's go to our tent and get some sleep, huh?**"

"**Yeah, sure.**"

*break*

Balisk couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes as he watched what those Death Eaters were doing to those poor muggles.

"**Balisk, move**!" Anthony yelled, dragging him with him.

Balisk's heart pounded as he heard Anthony mutter things to himself, "**Viktor already left, hopefully. Nicholai went home before the game ended, the baby's with Simone…Fuck! Where's Criss?**"

Criss ran up at the sound of his name, panting slightly.

"**I'm here. I was help some kids out of the way. Their parents left them.**"

"**I'll talk about my lost faith in humanity when we get somewhere safe. Balisk, I said move!**"

"R-Right…" Balisk muttered, forgetting all his surroundings when he'd seen two redheads trying to navigate the insanity. He shook his head and ran behind the older men.

There were more pressing matters at hand than his loneliness.

*Owari*

**THERE YOU ARE KIDS. I know it's short, but I had to put **_**something **_**out and I have, like, eight essays due, so I can't write a terribly long chapter. So, I chose title I made up because I liked it and no one voted other than the few submissions for names I got, so I chose by my own opinion. Don't like it? Well then you should've said something.**

**I've narrowed down the paring choices down to these**

**Harry/Balisk**

**Fred/Balisk**

**George/Balisk**

**Anyone can vote, that includes me, my readers and my friends that aren't on this site, but they **_**do**_ **read the story. So if you're going through my reviews and you're all, "Wtf? They only voted for **_**so-and-so**_**, but she did **_**so-and-so**_**.****" Then it's because I got more votes from my friends. I've only got like, three, but their votes change every five minutes so…Yeah.**

**I love you kids, :D remember that reviews feed my bitchy beta and I'd like to get some sleep. Please kids, please? *puppy-dog eyes***


	2. Chapter 2

**Something I forgot to mention in the last chapter: I put the dialogue that's supposed to be in Bulgarian in bold because I didn't want to translate XD Read on, kids!**

**A Broken Encounter**

"Fred, you're being ridiculous," George said to his brother, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"No, George, I swear I heard him! Someone even said his name." Fred insisted, brushing off his brother's hand and slumping his shoulders.

"You just miss him, Freddie. We…We all do." George hated lying to his brother, but Balisk had wanted to keep the information under wraps. And he had to admit, if he told Fred, Fred would most likely go to their mother who wouldn't hesitate to drag Balisk out of Bulgaria by his hair.

"…Maybe you're right." Fred shook his head and buried his face in his hands. "I just wish he hadn't left. I can't believe he just…And without even saying goodbye…"

_To you,_ George thought with a guilty conscience.

An owl tapped on the window and George let it in.

"Whose owl is that?" Fred asked, a sad tint still clinging to his voice.

"Um, a pen friend's. I met him at the World Cup."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Fred could probably tell he was lying through his teeth—because, compared to any of his other crafted lies, that had just been _pathetic_— but probably thought he was writing a girl and would most likely leave it alone.

"Um, I'm gonna go read this." George said awkwardly.

"Go ahead."

"Thanks."

George left the room and opened the letter, hearing the owl take off from the window sill.

"_Dear George, _

_I hope you're doing well. Things have gone fairly smoothly save for the World Cup scare. Everyone here is fine and I haven't heard any troubling news from Simone so I assume things are fine with your lot as well. I miss you all so much._

_Sincerely~ Golden Snake"_

Golden Snake was the code name Balisk used when he wrote in case someone intercepted the owl and read what he'd written. Somewhere deep, _deep _inside George wished that he _would_ get traced by the right people and brought back home.

"So…Who's Simone?"

George whipped around the see Ginny leaning over his shoulder, having read a good part of the letter.

"None of your bloody business." George deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at her.

"I'm not going to tell Mum if you're writing one of that Bulgarian woman's sons, but I just want to know which one. She seemed to have a lot of children in her lot."

"Yeah, well, it's none of your business who I'm writing. Why don't you go help Mum with lunch or something?"

"Because I want to know who signed your letter. Their handwriting looks pretty."

"Shut up and go away, prat."

"Fine, but I might just tell Mum that you've been hiding a—"

George interrupted her, "_For your information_, she already knows about that. Now if you would."

George made an exaggerated motion for her to move on and she did, smirking in a way that told him this way far from over.

It always was.

*break*

"**Anthony!**" Criss bounced on Anthony's bed, landing on his knees next to the more stoic youth.

"**What do you want? I'm reading, in case you haven't noticed.**" Anthony reminded him, brandishing his thick book before pushing his glasses up his narrow nose.

"**But I want to talk,**" Criss whined.

":**You always want to talk.**" Anthony countered, casually turning a page.

"**Yeah, but this time I wanted to talk about Nicholai and Viktor.**"

"**What about them?**"

"**Nicholai's so **_**gorgeous!**_" Criss bounced up and down on his knees.

"**Isn't that a bit egotistical considering he's your identical twin?**" Anthony inquired, raising an eyebrow over his book, completely by-passing the fact that his friend was attracted _that way_ to his twin brother.

"**He just looks…different from me. I like taller people. You're pretty hot.**"

"**Not going to happen. Sorry for your hard luck.**"

"**Wasn't expecting it to. Since you've got the hots for **_**Viktor**_**.**" Criss giggled.

Anthony rolled his eyes, "**This again? Am I so much of a slut that I can't have a platonic relationship with **_**anyone**_**?**" Anthony looked thoughtful for a moment. "**Oh wait, that's you.**"

"**I'm not a slut,**" Criss said indignantly. "**You know I'm a virgin, prick. I'm saving myself for someone special.**"

"**Your brother?**"

"**Precisely.**"

"**All right then.**" Anthony said, hoping that was the end of it.

He was never that lucky.

Criss continued to jabber on and on into his ear about random things while he tried to read his book.

Balisk giggled slightly on the other side of the door, listening to Criss talk Anthony's ear off while Anthony tried fruitlessly to get it through the blonde's head that he wasn't interested in the least with what he had to say.

"**What are you laughing at?**"

Balisk jumped and hit his head on the wall, landing on his ass. He glared up at Viktor, who had raised a thick eyebrow at the display.

"**You're a dick.**"

"**That's subjective.**"

Balisk rolled his eyes, "**Oooh, look at the big smart guy, using such sophisticated words. We all you can barely speak English.**"

The door opened (hitting Balisk in the head again) and Anthony walked out with Criss hot on his heels.

"**Hey, Cocksucker, listen to me dammit!**"

"**Where the hell is Nicholai?**" Anthony asked Viktor, coolly ignoring Criss like the little blonde was a temperamental child. "**He was supposed to keep Mutt entertained.**"

"**Don't call me that!**" Criss said, but was ignored again.

"**Not sure,**" Viktor replied, walking down the hall. "**He was here a minute ago.**"

"**He probably sent Criss in there on purpose and ran off. I might kill him now.**"

"**How sweet.**" Viktor laughed.

Balisk smirked at the men as they talked (in Criss's case, shouted) to each other. He suddenly felt like he was intruding and excused himself under the cover of "Just going for a walk."

He walked around the streets of Vardim, rubbing his hands together and regretting not wearing a thicker jacket. An elderly woman stopped him on the street and offered him one of the furs from her shoulders, but he declined the offer.

He tugged at his gloves that made his tiny hands seem thicker than they really were. He felt the familiar yearning to be back in England—at Hogwarts, having a feast in the Great Hall or, maybe, at the Burrow eating a meal made by Molly and being able to look at her smiling face.

Balisk sighed and dropped his body down on a cold, wooden bench. He tugged at the grey hat settled on his head and looked over the soft material. The hat had belonged to Anthony, who had received a new one for his birthday and no longer needed it. Simone had taken out the stitching that had spelled out Anthony's name (by hand, which Balisk still couldn't understand) and replaced it with Balisk's cover name.

He felt the urge to rip out the name "Vincent" as it glared at him from the soft layers of fabric. He didn't, because that would make Simone feel _awful_, but that didn't stop him from stomping on the hat a couple of times before stuffing it into his pocket.

He'd fix it later.

Balisk sighed again and continued down the street, adjusting the glasses on his face and puffing irritably.

"Vincent?" A female voice called out to him. Balisk turned to see a purple-haired girl he knew to be named Ruby—a girl that used to stalk Anthony and Viktor and once dated both of them…At the same time. Hence why Balisk just smiled dumbly and tried to ignore her and walk away.

"I know you heard me," Ruby jerked Balisk's arm back violently, her manicured nails digging into his skin.

"Ow! Sorry…" Balisk rubbed his arm. "I'm supposed to be home right now."

Ruby's eyes brightened significantly and she smiled sweetly at him.

"Really? Can you tell Anthony I said hi?"

"Umm…Yeah." Balisk lied, having no intention of ruining one of Anthony's rare good moods. "Yeah, I'll tell him."

Ruby kissed Balisk on the cheek (_Ugh,_ Balisk thought, wishing he could wipe her germs off his cheek without being slapped across the face) and bounced off.

Balisk sighed. Ruby was fucking _insane_, but pretty much harmless aside from using her damn claws to ruin his skin. Ruby wasn't good with magic in the least (Balisk was surprised she was still permitted inside the school) and couldn't really hurt anyone. Just scare the hell out of them, really.

Yeah, Balisk thought, it was fine. Ruby wasn't smart enough to do any damage if she found out how much Viktor and Anthony absolutely _despised _her.

Balisk wondered if he was jynxing himself with his own thoughts.

***Owari***

**I'm so sorry that this was so fucking late. I'm lame D: I had a really hectic month. I got the shit kicked out of me at school for wearing a LGBT bracelet to school. And apparently I have a boyfriend since I went to my best friend's house drunk and like, raped his mouth (I don't think he minded ;D). Yeah…So Auntie Riddle has been busy.**

**I also start T in a couple of weeks (If you don't understand, read the FAQ on my profile. I'll explain further if you need me to.)**

**VOTING IS STILL OPEN DAMMIT.**

**Fred/Balisk**

**George/Balisk**

**Harry/Balisk**

**VOTE.**

**I love you kids :3 Have a nice weekend.**


	3. Chapter 3

***Hides face in hands* Oh god, I'm such a loser. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in forever. I actually forgot that I had to update another chapter because, well, on the other story I had a pretty steady stream of reviews and they'd pop up in my email and I'd be all, "Oh damn, they're expecting something." But now I don't get **_**any**_** so I forget that I even have a story. So remember, the more reviews I get, the fast the new chapter comes. Okay kids? Great. Love you *kisses foreheads***

**A Broken Encounter**

It had happened on a Saturday.

Actually, the more Balisk thought of the fateful day, the more he began to think that it was a Friday. He remembered it was a holiday, because Antony and Viktor weren't at school. It was the summer, he knew that much.

But the date didn't matter, it was what happened on the date that mattered.

*break*

It had begun as a normal day—Anthony had greeted the baby and his mother when he came down for breakfast scarcely dressed in boxers and a ratty Weird Sisters shirt. He'd smiled at Balisk and ruffled his hair before kissing Simone on the cheek and sitting down for breakfast.

When they'd finished eating, Anthony had said something about going to hang out with Criss and Nicholai for the afternoon.

"**Balisk, dear,**" Simone said, sounding slightly weary as she balanced the baby on her hip and held out a piece of paper to him. "**Can you go by the market for me? I've got my hands full here.**"

"**Yeah, of course.**" Balisk had nodded and smiled, an action that Simone returned.

Balisk had never regretted something more.

*break*

When he'd returned from the market an hour later, he saw Anthony standing in the yard with Nicholai standing next to him stoically and Criss vomiting in the street while the local police went around the yard.

"**Criss,**" Balisk said, horrified. "**What happened?**"

"**I don't know,**" Criss choked out. "**We came by to see if Simone wanted us to do anything a-and we found…Oh God, they killed everyone Balisk. Even the baby…**"

Balisk dropped the groceries and covered his mouth.

"**It was Ruby and…Someone else. That fucking retarded slut couldn't tie her shoes by herself.**" Criss spat venomously. "**She had to have someone else.**"

Balisk walked away as Criss ceased to speak to him and spoke merely to himself. He walked over to Anthony.

"**They wrote on the wall,**" Anthony said, strangely serene and calm. "**In Simone's blood. It said, **_**For harboring that monster.**_"

"**Anthony—**"

"**I can't say it isn't true,**" Anthony looked at his hands. "**This wouldn't have happened if she'd just passed me on to someone else.**

"**You know she wasn't even my real mother? My biological mother was from England—that's how I knew Dumbledore. She couldn't stand what I was, so she left me to die. Dumbledore found me and left me to Simone. She…She loved me like her own son. I hurt her so many times, but she never stopped caring for me. I could've killed her **_**and**_** her family, but she only cared that I had a good home.**"

Nicholai placed a hand on Anthony's shoulder and the two seemed to have a silent exchange before Nicholai removed his hand and went to comfort his brother.

"**He needs it more than I do. Poor Criss has a weak stomach.**" Anthony explained, leaving Balisk with more questions than answers.

*break*

So on that day—be it a Friday or Saturday—Balisk left Bulgaria and left behind yet another crumbling family and haunting past. He thought that all his troubles had finally ended, but he knew in his heart that he should've expected this. Even if it was no fault of his own, death and tragedy seemed to follow him like his own shadow.

He hated to think that this was his fault—that somehow his _father_ was behind it in the end and that Balisk himself had dragged innocent people into his own screwed up life.

Balisk stood on the side of a muggle highway with no direction or knowledge of where he was or where he would go. He only knew that the farther away from humanity he was, the safer everyone else was—even if he himself was in grave danger.

*break*

Anthony sat on his second-story window sill and stared after the police as they left the crime scene. They hadn't even noticed him going up to his room, but that was the point.

He looked into the sunset and imagined Balisk was miles away by now. Of course, the younger wizard had put the blame on himself, merely stating that he should've known better than to think that he could stay in one place with such good people without something bad happening.

The same thing had occurred to Anthony, but about himself.

His birth mother had abandoned him and left him to die and the woman that raised him since he was knee-high was killed the most violent of manners with her blood splattered on the walls and her only daughter and grandchild massacred not three feet away from her.

Anthony mulled over how horrid it would've been to see the only flesh and blood you had being killed as you slowly bled to death, unable to help them.

He then decided that he'd rather not find out.

Anthony sighed and picked up a piece of paper and a quill. He touched the quill to his tongue and dipping it in the ink, scratching it across the parchment in fine, neat letters before hopping off the window and landing on the ground far below.

After a quick stop at the most important place he could think of, Anthony looked off into the sunset, thinking that Balisk must be miles away by now.

And thinking that he should be, too.

*Owari*

**So? How was it? So sorry it took so long for me to update, but I had a parade to prepare for and reports to write and…Ugh. My week's just been **_**all**_** kinds of fucked up.**

**I love you kids :3**

**Remember, voting is still up. And I'd like more votes before I make a final decision because I haven't gotten that many and it makes me paranoid.**

**Thanks 3 Love you kids!~**

**-Auntie Riddle**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey kids! I took a little longer writing this one than the last one, so I hope it's better :3 Voting is closed, so hope that your pairing won, kids!~**

**A Broken Encounter**

Arthur sat at his breakfast table with his family. It had taken a year or so, but they'd all moved on from the disappearance of their friend (though he had a feeling that Molly would never truly forgive him for turning so easily on a boy that had practically been her son). He turned the page of the Daily Profit and choked on his coffee, sputtering as he read the headline over again.

_Massacre Of Simone Antov And Family_

"Oh dear lord…Molly, look at this!"

Molly rushed over from her place looking at her children play Quidditch in the yard and over to her husband. She gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth, tears coming to her eyes.

"That can't be right. The Bulgarian woman from the World Cup? Why would anyone—"

"Mum?" Fred and George walked in the kitchen door, pushing Ron playfully before stopping at the look on their mother's face. "Mum, what's wrong?"

Arthur read quietly from the paper, his voice barely above a whisper, "_Bulgarian witch, Simone Antov was found dead in her home next to her three-year-old grandson and twenty-four-year-old daughter. When questioned, Mrs. Antov's son, Anthony Antov, confirmed that his cousin, Vincent, had been in the home at the time of the murders and he is assumed dead—_"

"What?" George yelled, appearing scared out of his mind.

"George," Fred said gently to his brother. "What's wrong?"

"I…"

"He was your pen-friend, wasn't he?" Ginny spoke up. "That Vincent boy, weren't you writing to him this summer?"

"Yeah, yeah I was…" George said, calming down only a little after Ginny unknowingly saved him from spouting out the truth.

"Well, that's awful," Arthur said. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "There's always a possibility he got out of the house in time, George. The paper _did_ say that he was just _assumed_ dead."

George sighed and tried his best to smile, though the sinking feeling didn't leave him, "Yeah, you're right."

"All right, I think we need to send a letter to Anthony with our respects, hm?"

There was a murmur of agreement before everyone went back to what they'd been doing before, slightly more depressed at the news.

George waited until he was sure that no one was watching him and jogged up the stairs to his room. He opened his door and was so happy he almost cried when he saw Balisk's owl grooming itself on his window sill. It held no letter for him, but he supposed that Balisk knew the paper would print that story and had sent him as a signal that he was okay.

"Thank God…" George sighed, giving the owl a little treat and petting its feathers before sending it on its way.

He just hoped that Balisk was safe, wherever he was.

*break*

Balisk shivered as he made his way through a small, muggle town. When he'd passed the city limits sign, it had stated that the town had a population of about eight hundred. He'd thought that maybe he'd be able to stay there for a good while before he had to move on—maybe even get a temporary job and get some money. He ran a hand through his hair with a little spark of happiness since he'd been able to spell the dye from his hair and go back to his pale blonde—though he wished he could've gone back to his eye treatments instead of keeping his glasses.

"Psst, hey kid," Someone called his attention from an alley and he followed the voice to a cleanly-shaven man standing with his hands in his pockets. "You new here?"

Balisk had no idea where "here" was. He'd caught a random Portkey with a large group of wizards that he was able to blend into. He was positive he was out of Bulgaria, but it seemed to be just as cold.

"Uh, yeah," Balisk said with uncertainty.

"Got a strange accent, there," The man laughed and Balisk scowled.

"Where I come from, _you_ have the queer accent."

"No one said anything about being gay here."

Balisk's face showed his plain confusion, "_Queer_ means strange and _gay_ means happy. Speak the king's English would you? I wasn't calling you a homosexual."

"Okay, Shakespeare, I get it. What I was _trying_ to say is that I can help you." The man said, rolling his eyes at the offended look Balisk had after being called "Shakespeare".

"_Fine_, how can you help me?" Balisk crossed his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow.

"You sound foreign, so I assume you don't have a green card," Balisk had learned about green cards from an American pen-friend he'd had a few years back. He fought off the little spike of anger than came from the man assuming that he wasn't a citizen because he sounded different. Then again, he really couldn't talk since he wasn't. "I can forge you some…For the right price."

"I don't have any money, sorry." Balisk shrugged.

"I'm sure you can pay me in other ways," The man said lecherously, his eyes grazing up and down Balisk's thin body hungrily.

"I'm not a prostitute. _No thank you_." Balisk growled, glaring at the man and pulling his coat tighter around himself.

"Fine, let's see how far you get without papers."

Balisk bit his lip and—much to his horror—_thought_ about the idea the man was proposing and trying to figure out _how_ he would get by without certification. In the end, he decided that, while desperate, he did have a bit of pride left.

He shook his head stubbornly and stomped away from the man through the snow. He sighed when he got to a shop and looked in his pockets. He found three knuts and one galleon, but nothing he could use at a muggle shop.

"What that you've got there, son?" An older, fatherly-looking man walked up to him, looking into his hand. Balisk hurried to put the wizard money back into his pocket, but seemed too late as the man looked confused for a moment. "Where did you get that money?"

"I, uh…"

"That's very valuable money, you know. You shouldn't steal—"

"I didn't steal it!" Balisk shouted indignantly. "I brought this from home."

The man looked surprised for a moment before leaning in closer to him, "What school did you go to, son?"

Balisk looked at him, "Hogwarts. That's in England."

The man's face broke into a smiled and he clapped Balisk on the back, "What's your name, son?"

"Balisk," He shrugged, no longer caring if there was a news story on his family. He just didn't want to lie anymore. The man smiled again.

"Right wizard name, that is. I'm Jonathan and my house is right up here. I've got a son about your age and a wife. She's a fantastic cook," Jonathan looked at his stomach. "I bet you could use a good meal, eh?"

Balisk mulled it over and decided that maybe, just maybe, this was the escape he was looking for.

"I'd love to."

*break*

"So you left home?" Jonathan asked, sitting down at the circular table that Balisk was already seated at.

Balisk nodded, looking down, "I didn't want to, but the—my family was going to kick me out anyway. I was about to leave when I heard my dad tell my mum that he was kicking me out."

Jonathan reached over and put his hand over Balisk's, a look of pure sympathy on his face. "I'm very sorry, no child deserves to hear that."

"Don't I know it," Balisk sighed, leaning his chin into his hand and setting his elbow on the table. "The worst part is that I had to leave my brothers behind. George—he's my older brother—he, uh, he tried to talk me out of it. I've owled him since, but…It's hard. He sent me a letter saying our little sister almost caught him reading one of my letters. My mum would've dragged me into the country by my ear if she found out."

Jonathan smiled, "Well, at least you know they care."

Balisk nodded and smiled.

"Is there…Anyone else you want to go back for?" Jonathan asked cautiously, as if asking one of his children who they had a crush on.

Balisk flushed and looked down again, "Erm, just a bit…That's part of it too. I have a professor who's always given me good advice in the past. I just…I wish I could get his opinion on this, too."

Jonathan's eyes sparkled, "Dumbledore?"

"Bloody hell!" Balisk said in disbelief. "Why does every bloody wizard know Dumbledore?"

"He's very famous in the wizarding world," Jonathan winked. "I can set up a Portkey, get you a disguise in case you decide against staying…"

Balisk looked at him. "You'd do that for me?"

Jonathan shrugged, "I just like to make people realize that not everyone on the planet is as apathetic to other people's troubles as they seem to be."

"Thank you," Balisk breathed, amazed at the perfect stanger's kindness. "I…Thank you."

Jonathan waved him off, "It's not a problem."

*break*

"Do you want me to go with you? I can tell Anna," Jonathan said as Balisk ran a hand through his hair, a bit miffed at the red dye the older wizard had put into it. He then touched his nose, which was just the slightest bit longer.

"I looked like my younger brother," Balisk added under his breath: "I wonder how the gangly freak's doing…"

"It's all set up," Jonathan reminded him.

"I think I'll be fine on my own," Balisk said.

"All right, five seconds."

Balisk hurriedly grabbed the Portkey (an old teddy bear) and gasped when he felt something grab him just above his bellybutton.

Before he knew it, he'd landed on his knees in the middle of a school yard.

"Lord knows I missed this place," Balisk whisper in awe to himself, seeing Hogwarts in all its glory for the first time in nearly two years. It seemed to be later here than where he was, so the only light that was on was in Hagrid's cabin and a small window in the main castle.

"Dumbledore's office," Balisk muttered.

He set off for the main doors, reaching them in a matter of minutes. Carefully, he pushed one open, wincing slightly at the long creak it emitted.

"What do you think you're doing?" A chilling voice asked.

Balisk jumped almost a foot in the hair and gripped his heart, seeing only Snape in front of him, raising a dark eyebrow.

"And just who are you?"

"Francis Drake," Balisk breathed coolly. "I'm here to see Dumbledore."

"Oh really?" Snape countered. "What do you have to discuss with him."

"None of your business, that's what. Just take me to his office."

Snape rolled his eyes and turned, his robes sweeping around him. Balisk followed him up and down the shifting staircases before they came to a door being guarded by a gargoyle.

"Lemon drops," Snape said in a bored tone.

The gargoyle lept aside and Snape stepped away, waving a hand for Balisk to continue on. The newly red-head nodded and started climbing the stairs, hearing a faint humming that grew louder the closer he got to the office he knew awaited him at the top.

"Um, Professor Dumbledore?" Balisk asked when he approached the door to his headmaster's office.

The humming paused followed by a cough and a faint, "Come in."

Balisk turned the knob and pushed the door, revealing an office he'd been in far too many times in the past. He saw Dumbledore sitting in his chair, leaning forward on with his elbows on the desk.

"It's been too long, Francis," Dumbledore smiled knowingly and motioned for him to sit down before waving his wand and shutting the door. "To what do I owe this rare visit?"

"I have, er…" Balisk coughed uncomfortably. "A rather personal matter to discuss with you."

Dumbledore smiled again, "Well, you know you can tell me anything. I'm always willing to give advice."

Balisk breathed and closed his eyes, "Have you ever been in love?" His voice was barely above a whisper, and when the words were out he found he didn't feel much better than when he'd walked in.

"Once, when I was very young—about your age I'd say."

Balisk looked up, slightly surprised, "Really?"

"Oh yes," Dumbledore chuckled. "If I were more technical, I would say I was in love twice—but I'm fairly certain one of them was just youthful admiration. I'd never felt that way before, so I suppose I assumed."

"Who was your second love?"

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled, "Someone who shall remain nameless. We are still in contact with each other."

"Are you…Like, married?" Balisk asked, trying to find a way to sound less awkward.

"Ah, I suppose we could be, but circumstance has made it impossible for us to be together. He visits often enough, but it feels like an eternity between each time. I'm sure you know the feeling?"

"All too well," Balisk sighed. "They…H-He, he's almost like a brother to me. I've offered advice like a brother and then…This. It's awful, I hate it."

Dumbledore smiled and, for the first time, Balisk felt slightly annoyed with him, "You shouldn't hate the feeling, Balisk—" Balisk flinched a little at being called the name he hadn't been known as for so long. "It is rare and not many have the joy to experience it."

"I just don't know what to do anymore. I think I should try to find Ashton."

"Balisk, I'm afraid to say that…Your brother was found by some wizards who'd been travelling near the place where you were held. He was kept in St. Mungo's, but…"

"He's dead?" Balisk guessed, his voice breaking.

"Not quite. His mind is broken far beyond repair. There is nothing our medicine can do for him. He will never recover. I'm very sorry."

Balisk nodded. He had yet to decide if he'd rather his brother be in the state he was in or just dead. He though he preferred the latter, because Ashton had once been a lively person and would hate to know that he could no longer do anything on his own.

"So that's one thing I don't have to go around the globe for," Balisk sighed. "What else?"

"Education?" Dumbledore suggested. "You could start back here under an alias."

Balisk wrinkled his delicate nose, "The twins would recognize me. Plus, Anthony taught me a lot while I was in Bulgaria. I think I'm at graduation level, anyway."

"All right…" Dumbledore thought for a moment. "Would you like a job?"

"What?" Balisk looked up at him. "Someone would still recognize me."

Dumbledore shook his head, "You misunderstand. I mean a job in, say, the kitchens. Working with house elves that see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, etc…"

Balisk bit his lip in thought, thinking about Dumbledore's offer.

"Well, it's better than doing nothing," Balisk said. He stood and grinned, shaking his former-professor's hand. "I'll take it."

"Fantastic. We're happy to have you, Mr. Drake."

Balisk laughed and did something akin to a curtsey, "And I am happy to be here, Mr. Dumbledore."

The two shared a laugh and Balisk smiled to himself.

While he wasn't exactly at home, he was at least in his homeland, in the school that had nurtured him through his hellish childhood with Ana and Becker—the same school that had introduced him to all the friends that he had had such a painful parting with.

It was close enough.

*OWARI*

…**HE LOVES NEVILLE.**

**I'm kidding, but I decided to keep it a mystery, even though for some people it might not be. It'll be definitely revealed next chapter.**

**Love you children!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I would've had this done sooner, but my computer crapped out on me and deleted what I had DX So I had to do a rushed one before I lost my mind. Sorry if it's crappy! I love you kids.**

**A Broken Encounter**

Balisk smiled as one of the house elves in the kitchen struck up conversation with him. They talked about their jobs (only positive things, of course, as Balisk didn't want to scare the poor guy) and the other elves. He focus on cutting some vegetables while he went on and on about the new wave of "Free Elves" and how they were a disgrace to the elf name.

"But really, what self-respecting house elf _requests payment_? It's disgusting is what it is!"

Balisk smiled and nodded, laughing a bit under his breath.

"I mean, for humans it's different. You have to go home and buy things. What expenses does a house elf have? We don't buy clothes or food, so what are you supposed to buy?"

"I think Dobby spends his earnings on socks and hats," He replied. The elf shrugged.

"That's Dobby for you…"

"Oh, hello young master!"

Balisk tensed when he heard a female elf exclaim from across the kitchen. She clapped her hands and asked if the person needed anything. Much to his horror, an all-too-familiar voice replied.

"Yeah, could I get some—Who're you?" The last part, he knew for sure, was directed at him. Balisk pulled his hood, which had already been up, further around his face. "I'm serious. Who are you?"

"Is it any of your bloody business? No." Balisk consciously deepened his voice when a certain ginger-haired twin leaned in to get a better look at his face.

"Francis!" The elf he'd been speaking to gasped. "That is no way to speak to a student!"

"Sorry," Balisk muttered.

Fred sniffed, "What sort of name is Francis?"

"It's bloody French—what sort do you _think _it is?" Balisk hissed, making sure the elves were out of earshot.

"You're awfully rude to be working around house elves. You an Azkaban-escapee or something?"

Balisk reacted without thinking. Before he knew what he'd done, his fist was clenched and Fred had a sharp red mark on his face and his mouth was bleeding.

"If I wanted your goddamned opinion I would ask for it you ginger freak!" He yelled, not masking his voice or anger and not noticing Fred's look of realization as he heard this.

Fred sputtered for a moment, caught between rage and relief.

"I-uh—th-…Balisk?"

Balisk and Fred and all the elves froze. Balisk's jaw slacked and he felt his stomach drop.

"W-Who's Balisk? That some sort of snake or something?" Balisk stuttered, trying his best to keep his voice disguised even though he knew he'd already exposed himself.

"_You're_ Balisk you bloody twit," Fred growled, obviously not entertained by Balisk's façade. "Now how about you come with me and you can explain just where the _fuck_ you've been."

Balisk found himself being dragged—rather roughly, he might add—by the arm out of the kitchens and down the steps to the school entrance before going out onto the grounds and finally stopping behind the Quidditch locker rooms.

Fred crossed his arms and raised a red eyebrow.

"I…uh…" Balisk shuffled his feet.

"What the _hell_ Balisk?" Fred yelled, making Balisk flinch slightly. "You disappear for nearly two bloody years then you show back up and you're a fucking _kitchen worker_? What the hell have you been doing all this time?"

"I've been running, Fred," Balisk whispered. "I went to live with Simone and her family, but then…I _know_ you saw it in the papers, so I won't bother to repeat it. Then I traveled for a while after that and tried to get settled somewhere…Then I ended up back in England and I just…This is the only place I knew I could go."

"Why didn't you come back home?" Fred asked, his voice absolutely miserable. "Do you have any idea how much we missed you? Mum cried for a month non-stop. Even after that, she could barely focus on anything."

"I would've had to leave anyway, Fred. Dad was gonna kick me out."

"Why would he do that?"

Balisk bit his lip, "My father. It's…He's Voldemort, Freddie," Balisk fell to his knees and cried. "He was going to find me! He found me once, and his stupid followers killed my brother. I couldn't let that happen to you! I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I caused that…I just wanted…I just…"

"You wanted us to be safe," Fred whispered.

"Yes," Balisk nodded miserably. "I know how much I hurt you. It hurt me too, Fred, knowing I'd left and if I went back he'd find me and kill all of you…I hated myself, but I couldn't go back."

Fred collapsed next to Balisk, stroking his hair and pulling him against his chest.

"Shh, it's okay," Fred soothed. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm sorry I hadn't thought of that…I didn't know. It's okay, Balisk."

Balisk wrapped his arms around Fred's waist and rested against him, sniffling like a child and whimpering to himself. He'd forgotten how nice it felt to have this sort of comfort—Simone had tried her best to substitute the feeling, but she'd never be Molly or George or Fred.

"I'm so sorry Freddie," Balisk said into Fred's jacket.

"I know, Balisk, I know."

"I missed you a lot, you know," Balisk said. "I wanted to say goodbye, but I wasn't thinking that night."

"It's really okay, Balisk. I understand." Fred leaned down and kissed Balisk's forehead.

Balisk looked up and into Fred's eyes, "Freddie…"

Judging by the look in Fred's eyes, Balisk wasn't entirely sure who had leaned forward first or if it had been a total accident. The only thing he knew for sure was that their lips were now pressed together and neither of them were moving.

Balisk gasped and pulled away, surprised by their actions.

"I'm sorry," Both of them said at the same time. Balisk laughed slightly and Fred gave a nervous chuckle.

"I guess we should…" Fred stuttered.

"I need to get back to the kitchen," Balisk breathed. He scattered to stand and, with one last look back at Fred, he headed back towards the castle.

"I swear Balisk," Fred whispered, knowing the other boy couldn't hear him. "He'll never touch you. I'll make sure of it."

*OWARI*

**Did I mention that this was the last chapter?**

**Yeah, there's this then the third and final installation, which I plan to make a one-shot. Then I might do a couple of side stories to fill in some of the time skips if it feels right :D**

**To all those who wanted Fred and Balisk to shack up—congrats.**

**To those who voted anyone else…Sorry for your hard luck.**

**For those who are disappointed but didn't vote: I FEEL NO SYMPATHY. LEAVE MY SIGHT.**

**Thank children!~**


End file.
